


Sweet Prince of the Panopticon

by monsterhugger



Series: Atop London, At The End Of All Things [2]
Category: The Magnus Archives (Podcast)
Genre: Angst, Forced Romantic Relationsip, Gaslighting, Imprisonment, Kidnapping, M/M, Off-Screen Major Character Death, this is sad as hell I’m sorry
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-11-30
Updated: 2020-11-30
Packaged: 2021-03-09 19:48:39
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,197
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27791788
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/monsterhugger/pseuds/monsterhugger
Summary: Jon adjusts to life atop the Institute.
Relationships: Elias Bouchard/Jonathan "Jon" Sims | The Archivist
Series: Atop London, At The End Of All Things [2]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/2033275
Comments: 2
Kudos: 46





	Sweet Prince of the Panopticon

Elias’s bed was comfortable. Heavenly, really, after days of sleeping on the hardwood floor. Jon didn’t know when or how Elias had gotten it into the Institute, but if he cared to know such a thing it would have come to him. He simply cared so little about Elias and any of the goings on in his life that knowledge of it didn’t even seep through the cracks into his mind.

Elias wasn’t in his bed at the moment, which was the only reason Jon felt content to climb into it. He knew Elias wouldn’t mind, rather he’d practically been pleading with Jon to crawl into bed with him for days. It was the thought of being in that bed with Elias, curled up against him as if they were lovers and not a boss and his employee, a kidnapper and his victim. It made Jon sick.

Of course, Jon didn’t feel physically ill. It was actually the first time in a while he’d felt physically fine. The gnawing hunger deep in the pit of his stomach had turned into background noise long before the world went to hell. Only in the Panopticon was Jon truly sated, and only now did the hunger finally go away. It was a relief. A small mercy amid the horrors Jon had found himself in.

The lack of physical hunger did little to make Jon truly feel better. He’d never felt worse, really. When he closed his eyes, his mind was flooded with images of suffering, tortured and mutilated bodies strewn about the ruined world. And of course, Martin, his Martin, bloodied and bruised and straining for one last breath on the floor of this awful place. It was a cruel death. A horribly, needlessly cruel death that Elias seemed far too fond of inflicting. Jon still couldn’t decide if being allowed to kneel over Martin’s body and grieve for hours afterward was a mercy or a torture.

Opening his eyes and focusing on a single spot on the wall made the images subside, if only slightly. The walls of the Institute were the same dark gray that they always were, and it felt just as depressing as ever. This particular room was barren-Elias apparently kept most of his belongings elsewhere, presumably to deter Jon from destroying them in anger. The only thing in here was a bed, a large window providing ample view of the suffering below, and a heavy chain which attached Jon to the opposite wall. The chain was hardly restrictive, and Jon could move throughout most of the small room apart from the space in front of the window. Maybe Elias thought he would want to jump.

Jon wondered if he did want that. He wanted to escape, of course, but he didn’t know if he’d be willing to jump. If he was still human, a jump would almost certainly kill him, but Jon wasn’t sure if it would kill him. Maybe he’d be okay either way. It was an escape, whether he lived or died. Maybe he’d prefer to die, if that would mean he was still human.

But Elias hadn’t granted him that option, and Jon once again wondered if that was a mercy or a torture.

He spent most of his day curled up, on the floor or in bed, sobbing and thinking of Martin. He couldn’t help it. Of all the ways this could have gone, of all the things Elias could have done, it shouldn’t have been Martin. Martin was never supposed to get hurt. He was supposed to be safe.

He and Jon were supposed to spend their lives together, and Elias had torn him away.

When Jon heard the door to the small room open up, he wanted to scream. It was Elias. It was only ever Elias, clad in silk pajamas and eager to enjoy a rest with Jon at his feet. Jon clenched his fists and curled up tighter in the bed. He heard Elias walking closer, and felt the other side of the bed sink as Elias crawled in. Then, to his horror, he felt the blankets being pulled over him and the warmth of Elias’s body against his back.

“You’ve finally decided to join me,” Elias said, sickening sweetness dripping from his voice.

“I hate you,” Jon growled.

“Don’t play games with me, dear,” Elias murmured. Jon could feel his breath against the back of his neck.

“You know damn well I mean that.”

“Please, love,” Elias said, stroking a hand ever so softly through Jon’s hair. “You’ve got to stop thinking about him. He was bad for you, you know that. And now you’re safe. With me.”

“You murdered the man I love,” Jon hissed. “And I hate you.”

“He would have killed you. He would have starved you to death, you poor thing. You have to be with someone who knows what you are. What you need. How to properly care for you, properly love you.”

“I’d rather starve to death than stay with you.”

“Do you think that’s a healthy way to feel?”

“No less healthy than falling in love with a man who kidnapped me and then killed my partner while I watched.”

“You make me sound like a monster.”

“What do you think you are?”

Elias stroked his hand through Jon’s hair once again. This time, Jon rolled over in bed and swiped a hand at Elias’s outstretched arm.

“Don’t you _dare_ touch me like that.”

Elias sighed and withdrew his hand.

“I want you to be comfortable with me,” he said gently. “I’d like to be able to show you how much I love you without you attacking me. Is that too much to ask?”

“After everything you did to me? You don’t get to ask me for shit.”

“You are very difficult to love, aren’t you,” Elias grumbled. “But I do. You are my Archivist, my Archive, and I’ve never cared for anything or anyone more than I care for you. I love you so very much, Jon, and I just wish you could see that.”

And Jon did see it. As horrible as Elias was, Jon Knew the man loved him. He was as certain of that as he was of his own name. He was as certain of it as he was certain that Martin loved him, and that truly stung. The thought that anyone so horrid as Elias could love him as his perfect, beautiful Martin could, it simply turned Jon’s stomach.

“I’m never going to love you,” Jon whispered. “As long as we live, I’m going to hate you with every fibre of my body. And you’ll know just how much I hate you, because I know you will, because I know how much you love me. Doesn’t that bother you? That the man you love will never love you back?”

“It’s enough that I saved you,” Elias replied. “It’s enough that I’m finally here with you, and that you’re well-fed and safe from that Martin. That will be enough. You’re still worth loving.”

“I hate you,” Jon growled again, softer this time.

“And I love you,” Elias replied. “I will always, always love you.”


End file.
